Game, Set, Match
by Miss Fortune Cookie
Summary: A competitive, analytical tennis player, Sango copes with life, seeing it as a complex game that she must have her wits about her to win. That means definitely NO falling for team mates. What she doesn’t realize is falling just might be the only win. Sx


**Summary: **AU - Thriving on competition and possessing the dizzying mind of a critically analyzing tennis player, Sango grudgingly deals with her new life, viewing it merely as a game -- one long, challenging tennis match that she certainly needs all her wits about her to win. That means no distractions, no slip-ups, and unquestionably no falling for team mates. What she doesn't realize is falling might just be the only road to victory. Sango/Miroku – InuYasha/Kagome

**Disclaimer:** I only _wish_ I owned the InuYasha characters. Sadly, I don't.

**AN: **This is my first ever attempt at an InuYasha fanfic. It's AU & the main pairing is Sango/Miroku with some InuYasha/Kagome. I _hope_ it won't be a typical high school one because it focuses mainly on their lives as tennis players, but I don't know . . . please warn me if it gets too clichéd.

Anyway, on to the story! Hope you enjoy it!

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**Game, Set, Match**

**By: Miss Fortune Cookie**

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**Chapter 1**

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"You may report to your first classroom in approximately thirty-five minutes. I'm sure you'll find it suitable here." A stout woman mumbled monotonously as she placed a clean manila folder into the student's outstretched hands. "Welcome to Seikou High School."

The young girl nodded respectfully, instinctively adjusting the strap of her worn tennis bag that hung loosely on her right shoulder. She glanced quickly at the information printed neatly in the right hand corner of the file: Taijya Sango, Grade: 11th.

She looked back up at the woman to thank her, but found that the school administrator had left in a hurry, not bothering to say anything more than she was required to.

_So that's how it is here_, she thought grimly to herself, her thoughts dripping with sarcasm. _I can't wait to see what the students are like._

Sango let out an exasperated sigh and pushed back a sheet of her dark locks with her hand. Exhaling deeply, she pushed open the doors of the office building and stepped out into the light.

She tilted her head up slightly, closing her eyes and allowing the warmth of the sunlight to wash over her. Her eyelids fluttered open, carefully scanning the area from left to right. The main courtyard was practically deserted, surrounded by verdant shrubbery and vegetation. A few students sat languidly upon the grass, while others leaned casually against the office's wall, a novel in hand.

She had just arrived, yet assumptions and predictions had already begun to whirl in her analytical psyche.

It was just like a private school such as this to have such uptight students, their condescending air practically stifling Sango. Her lip twitched as she suppressed a sneer.

It was going to be a long year.

Sango envisioned days of utter solitude, people too intimidated or pretentious to approach her, the one they would deem the "new girl."

Not that it mattered to her. Life was all a game to her -- one endless, challenging tennis match. After all, she was simply up against new surroundings, new faces, a new life. Same basic rules applied: keep the ball in the court and above all; win. It was simply a new game for her to excel at.

And if it was just a game, Sango would wind up victorious; no questions asked. She _always_ won.

Pushing aside her thoughts, she sauntered over to a map of the school grounds which was tacked ever so conveniently to the side of a building. She traced a path with her finger and set off, once again shifting her bag out of habit more than necessity.

Sango swiftly tugged her hair back into a messy ponytail as she darted down the steps of the track and field stadium. She had a barely over thirty minutes to spend, scarcely enough to break a sweat.

And yet, she needed those thirty minutes simply for the physiologically therapeutic aspect of it all. Bittersweet resentment for her distasteful situation encompassed her and release rested only in the tired grip of her Wilson 5000 and a can of unsullied tennis balls. She gently closed the gate, the latch clicking shut and sealing her in her own personal realm where she dominated, triumphant in all her endeavors. She was lost in her own world. Unbeknownst to her, a pair of starling violet eyes surveyed her every move with an impassive gaze. 

Sango clamped her hand tightly on the grip, familiarity spreading through her fingers. Rolling the ball casually in her left hand, she dropped it twice on the ground, each time testing the spring of the spherical yellow object.

With that, she threw it high into the air, simultaneously bringing her racket swinging behind her back, over her head, and in direct contact with the ball.

The impact of the taut strings against the padded tennis ball sent it firing down just above the topmost part of the net and neatly in the corner of the service box -- all in one rapidly brief blink.

Sango's lip parted into a diminutive smile, clearly pleased with her serve. Apparently, the person who had furtively scrutinizing her was also pleased, for the previously blasé expression had adjusted into an acknowledging semblance of intrigued respect.

Once Sango repeated the serve several times, each time receiving the same, if not a better result, her covert spectator arched one eyebrow in extreme curiosity.

"Are you always that accurate or did I catch you on a lucky day?" he inquired brashly, leaping down from the bordering fence and sauntering onto the tennis court with his hands hanging casually from his pocket.

Sango spun around, her eyes narrowing suspiciously as he approached, a cocky grin spreading across his handsome features.

"Why are you watching me?" she snapped briskly, her grasp on the racket tightening.

He shrugged, shooting her what seemed to be a knee-buckling smile. If she had been a weaker person, her legs might've threatened to give way. Then again, Sango was _not_ a weak person and something as inconsequential as a smile could not break through her icy wall.

"Who says I can't?" he retorted cheekily, nonchalantly leaning against the fencing, his arms shifting to fold across his chest. "By the way, the name is Houshi Miroku. And yours is?"

Sango gawked at his presumptuous demeanor, remaining silent as she unlatched the door, grabbed her bag, and deserted him in the court without a twinge of remorse.

"You know, for someone who is unacquainted with this school and the people here, you're quite the distant enigma." He bellowed noisily, following her out of the court and quickening his pace to match hers.

"And how would you know that I've never been to this school before? For all you know, I could be a returning student who miraculously had a drastic change in appearance." She suggested dully, not bothering to even look at Miroku.

There wasn't much time until class started and she still wasn't quite sure where she was required to go. Sango made her way to the side of a building, where yet another map of the school was displayed.

"No, I don't think that's it. I'm sure I would recognize _you_." He stated plainly.

"Perhaps – perhaps not." She muttered, too preoccupied with studying the campus map to pay undivided attention to Miroku.

Her lack of interest bruised his inflated ego, not that that did anything to deter him from following her.

_She's different_, he mulled. _That's for sure. _

"Need help?" he offered, inching closer and closer to her, his intentions a bit more vulgar than a simple proposal of assistance.

"No, that's okay. I can find it by myself." She muttered, too rapt in examining the map and furrowing her brow to notice Miroku closing the gap between them.

"Are you positively sure, m'lady? I would hate to leave such a beautiful, unnamed maiden wandering aimlessly around such a large, complex campus. I would be a disgrace to men if I didn't –"

A thunderous smack resounded through the halls of the school, echoing into every crack and crevice. It seemed that Miroku's hand had _innocently_ wandered towards Sango's backside and somehow, groping ensued.

Sango's earsplitting roar indicated that she was less than pleased with the recent discovery of Miroku's lecherousness. The bruise, closely resembling a handprint, forming upon his face clearly displayed her infuriation as well.

He immediately raised his hand to tenderly inspect his cheek, wincing at the sharp sting. Letting his guard down for that brief moment, Sango didn't delay in taking advantage of the situation. She grabbed one end of her tennis bag and began swinging it back and forth violently in a clear attempt to injure him. Once she had released the anger building inside of her along with a few well placed whacks at Miroku's shoulder, she paused to catch her breath, eyes still glaring furiously.

"PERVERT! I can't believe you touched me! You already _are _a disgrace to men, so letting me find my own way around this school won't make much of a difference." She screeched huffily, her breathing shallow from screaming and chasing after Miroku with her bag.

Before he could get in any sort of explanation or excuse, Sango had stalked away, a scowl fixed firmly upon her features.

"I swear, I'll transfer, no matter what anyone says, if the rest of the students at this school end up upsetting me as much as that . . . that . . . lecher." She muttered wildly as she began a search for her classroom.

Unlike Sango, an intrigued grin parted Miroku's mouth as he gazed at her departing figure.

"Oy Miroku! What happened to _you_?" a rather abrasive voice belonging to an equally brusque appearing character, asked questioningly.

"She did." He replied simply, cocking his head over to the direction that Sango had set off to.

"Who? What the hell are you babbling about Miroku?" the student inquired further, impatience apparent in his words.

"I don't know who, InuYasha. She never told me her name."

InuYasha let out a derisive snort and folded his arms across his chest, leaning offhandedly against a tree.

"Quit being such a damn pervert and maybe you'll go so far as to get her name next time."

Miroku shot him a frosty glance before surveying the students scattered across the quad, his gaze lingering on the sizeable groups of ladies that suddenly appeared. The two stood in companionable silence, both having nothing pressing to say to the other.

As distant and unfriendly as they seemed, the pair were actually rather decent friends, despite their drastic differences. Both top tennis players, they began as rivals, competing vigorously for the highest spot on the team. Eventually rivalry became casual acquaintance, which gradually developed into a friendship of mutual respect and admiration.

"Hey! It's great to see you two again!" a lower classman approached excitedly, a tennis bag hung across her back. "How was your summer?"

"Damn Kagome. We all saw each other at tennis practice every week over the summer. How do you _think_ our summers were?" InuYasha barked irritably, rolling his eyes.

"Nice to see you again, Kagome-chan." Miroku greeted, receiving a smile quite unlike the look of disgust that InuYasha had gotten.

"So what's going on?" she inquired animatedly, her eyes wide with curiosity and innocence.

"Oh, Miroku just got beaten up by some mysterious new girl for fondling her backside." InuYasha explained unperturbedly. "Nothing new there."

"We have a new student? Who is she?"

Kagome stared at the two boys expectantly, eagerly awaiting a response. InuYasha grumbled and turned away, while Miroku paused as he caught sight of Sango, who was once again carefully looking at the campus map.

"I wish I knew. She's looking at the map over by the office; the girl with the Wilson tennis bag on her shoulder." He replied, pointing her out.

"She looks familiar. Isn't she that one girl that the coach was telling us about? I heard she's one of the best, practically undefeated. She supposedly used to go to some crumbling public school, but has some sort of scholarship that allows her to attend Seikou. Whatever the case, I heard she's brilliant." Kagome divulged, ignoring InuYasha's loud grunts of annoyance. 

"Feh. She doesn't seem so impressive to me." InuYasha scoffed, receiving a prompt whack from Kagome.

"You're such a jerk! I'm going to talk to her." Kagome growled angrily, stomping away from the two boys.

InuYasha watched her leave with obstinate eyes and muttered incoherently about how bothersome women were.

"Well, well, well. I guess it must not have been just a lucky day for her, then. She's one of the best tennis players around, huh?" Miroku murmured to himself, smiling cockily as he watched Sango from afar. "Well then, let the games begin."

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**AN:** How was it? It's my first attempted InuYasha fic and I really don't know how it turned out. The last names are so unoriginal and I wasn't sure whether to use surname first name, or vice versa. Also about the -chan and -sama... i'm not exactly sure about that, so if anyone could help me out and tell me how the characters address each other, that would be awesome.

Anyway, should I bother continuing? Any comments or suggestions would be really helpful. I'll update as soon as I can! **Please Review! **


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